


where the lovelight gleams

by driedupwishes



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (sing song voice) I Saw Prince Noctis Kissing That Prompto Kid, Domestic Fluff, Holidays, Kissing, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, dad cor, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 08:16:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13186059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driedupwishes/pseuds/driedupwishes
Summary: The only thing even comparably miserable to being the prince during the weeklong solstice ceremonies that are supposed to usher in the new year has got to bedatingthe prince who's needed for all those ceremonies. Everyone else in Insomnia gets to spend the next week with their loved onesexceptPrompto."Man," Prompto says, "Thissucks, dude."





	where the lovelight gleams

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to the baeb, who has not only made my holiday season the best ever but also proof read this for me and promised me it wasn't the worst. love u!

“Man,” Prompto says and he can feel himself pouting but he can’t really help himself. “This _sucks_ , dude.

Noctis doesn’t say anything for a moment, so still on the other end of the couch that Prompto begins to irrationally worry that he’s _died_. But then, finally, just as Prompto is lifting his foot to nudge Noctis’ leg with his toes, Noctis grunts in agreement.

Immediately Prompto feels a wave of guilt crash down on him and scrunches into a ball against the arm of the couch. Noctis, in one syllable, sounds more miserable than Prompto could have imagined a human being could sound. Outside the windows that they haven’t pulled the very expensive shades down on the sun is rising and usually they wouldn’t even be awake right now – Noctis _especially_ – but they haven’t technically been to bed.

Cor’s going to be _so pissed_ , which is a terrifying prospect to consider, even with a couple of years under his belt as Noctis’ best friend and almost six months under his belt as his boyfriend. The Marshall instills a kind of awe and fear other people probably feel in the presence of their significant other’s parents, with an added bonus of _oh by the Astrals, he could really honestly kill me and no one would ever know._

Not that Prompto thinks he would, or at least he _hopes_ he wouldn’t, but the possibility is still there, lurking in his mind. And now that they’ve pulled an all-nighter and are looking right now at the first light of the weeklong celebration of the solstice, Prompto can’t help but acknowledge that they’re tempting fate indeed.

“Fuck,” Noctis breathes, proving that he hasn’t fallen asleep in the span of time it’s taken for Prompto to contemplate his own mortality. “I fucking _hate_ this. I just-“ He cuts off, frustration thick in his voice, and then all in one motion swings his arm off his face and pushes off the couch to his feet. His movements are jerky and slow, exhaustion and anger a lethal concoction in him, but somehow he still makes it seem graceful and poised – though maybe that’s just Prompto’s biased opinion. Prompto’s chest aches at the sight, his hands curling into fists as he draws his legs up to his chest, and he watches his boyfriend storm the kitchen for a long silent second before he sighs.

“Sorry for mentioning it, Noct,” he whispers, chewing on his lower lip anxiously. “If this sucks for anyone, it sucks for you the most.”

Noctis stops angrily searching his cupboards, turning almost unnaturally still once more before he suddenly hands his head and sighs. When he picks his head back up to look at Prompto it’s to give him a crooked, self-deprecating smile, one that tilts his lips but doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Prom,” he says, his voice rough but warm in a way that makes Prompto’s chest ache even more. “This is so out of the realm of something you have to apologize for it’s not even funny. _I’m_ the one who’s sorry, okay? I just- I just wish I could spend the holiday with you.”

All the breath punches out of Prompto in a heartbeat and before he can think about it he’s hauling himself off the couch and staggering toward the kitchen. Noctis is still smiling at him, lopsided and softening as he gets closer, but still sad, sad and- and _beautiful_ , even like this, in a wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants that are so old they have holes worn in them, with his hair starting to grease and stick up in cowlicks and bags from sleeplessness bruising under his eyes. Prompto feels like a newborn anak, stumbling on weak legs with his heart in his throat, and so it’s a little more clumsy than he would like, the way he reaches for Noctis, who turns toward him with a smile that does finally reach his eyes.

“I wanna spend the holiday with _you_ ,” Prompto breathes. His hands curl along Noctis’ jaw with the same kind of reverence that most reserve for the statues of the former kinds or the Astrals, but Prompto’s only ever felt such devotion for Noctis.

Noctis’ eyelashes flutter, casting little dancing shadows over his cheeks, and Prompto leans in to kiss him in the same moment Noctis leans in for a kiss. They meet in the middle, soft and gentle, a sigh they share between them as their lips come together.

It’s chaste, just a brush of their lips, but Prompto still feels his nerves light up, his ribs squeezing around his heart until he leans back from it, breathless. Noctis seems to be in the same state, blinking adorably with his lips parted, emotions that Prompto can see but not name dancing in waves over his cheeks. It makes him smile, makes a tired little laugh bubble in the back of his throat, and so he leans in again to kiss the corner of Noctis’ lips, then his cheek, and then his temple, nosing at his messy hair.

“ _Prom_ ,” Noctis mutters, soft and fond and exasperated, like he knows what Prompto is thinking about doing. Prompto only snorts and then presses one last grinning kiss against Noctis’ head before he leans back just enough to slide his hands along Noctis’ hips.

Lifting Noctis off his feet and dropping him on the counter is easy enough, so easy Prompto barely even feels the muscles in his arms straining. Working out more than just running has been paying off for him, he thinks, watching Noctis’ cheeks turn faintly pink as he slumps back against the cupboards and fights back a smile.

“And _you_ said lifting weights was a waste of time,” Prompto murmurs, leaning forward and having to rise on his tiptoes just a little to kiss Noctis like this. Noctis sputters a laugh, rolling his eyes with a huff, but he leans into the kiss, hands sliding along Prompto’s shoulders to tangle in his hair. It’s a good kiss, Noctis’ mouth opening easily as Prompto swipes his tongue against the crease of his lips, and even though they have things to do – bags to pack and dishes to wash from the last two days – everything sort of falls away, to be forgotten as Prompto presses forward into the space between Noctis’ open legs.

They’re so lost in each other that they don’t hear Noctis’ phone beep, nor do they register the sound of someone knocking lightly on the front door. Noctis is on the edge of the counter by then, legs hooked around Prompto’s hips, while Prompto’s hands are pressing up in warm strokes up and down Noctis’ spine under his shirt.

It’s not an innocent picture they present, making out in the middle of a dirty kitchen, but the saving grace Prompto thinks of when Cor finally clears his throat as loud as humanly possible is that they’ve been caught in worse positions.

“ _Shit_ ,” Noctis yelps, jerking back from where he’s been trying to mold himself to Prompto’s body. He hits his head on the cupboard behind him, a loud _crack_ of a noise, but Prompto barely registers it past the scream of panic in his veins as he shrieks and drops from Noctis’ embrace to try and hide from view.

“Mornin’ boys,” Cor says and Prompto tries to tell himself he sounds amused except he doesn’t – there’s no emotion that Prompto can pinpoint in the man’s voice, just like always. Noctis always swears there’s something there that gives away that Marshall’s mood, but Prompto’s never, ever been able to hear it, and this is no different.

“Cor, for fuck’s sake,” Noctis whines. Prompto glances up at him from where he’s huddling on the floor next to Noctis’ dangling feet, and then has to swallow back a hysterical laugh at the way Noctis is about three shades away from being tomato red, cradling the back of his head in one hand and scowling viciously over the counter toward the front door. “You were _supposed_ to fucking _text me_.”

“I did,” Cor says, flat and dry. “You didn’t answer. I also, for reference, knocked.”

“Well, you should have knocked _again_ ,” Noctis snaps, and though most of the emotion in his voice is pure embarrassment the exhaustion is starting to creep back in. As Prompto is watching Noctis starts to sag, fighting it for only a second before his shoulders fall. His expression falls as well, twisting for a second before it goes slack, and then he whispers, “it’s time to go, isn’t it?”

Prompto feels himself deflate, the same way Noctis has, falling back until his head and shoulders hit the wood of the lower cupboards. He doesn’t want Noctis to go, doesn’t want to sit through the next week with little contact when everyone else in the city is getting to spend every day with the ones they love, celebrating the coming solstice and the year that they had before ushering in the new one, but Noctis is a prince and that means he’s needed for the endless ceremonies being held at the Citadel. Part of him is still surprised that Cor had gone through all the trouble of getting them the last two days off school, so that they could spend _some_ time together, but he’s grateful nonetheless.

It's that bit of him, awed and terrified but _so_ grateful, that makes him push himself up from the ground and back into the Marshall’s view. The man isn’t looking at him, eyes trained on Noctis with a visible softness that makes Prompto’s throat close up, and then he sighs, something Prompto sees in the movement of his shoulders than hears.

“I can probably buy you another hour at most,” the Marshall offers, voice quiet and even. Noctis’ head snaps up, mouth falling open in surprise, and Prompto feels his heart lurch, his own mouth falling open breathlessly. “But it means you’ll either have to eat in the car or go without until the big dinner tonight, and-“

“ _Really_ ,” Noctis breathes and Prompto watches, shocked, as the corner of Cor’s mouth twitches into something like a smile. “Holy _shit_ , Cor, are you _serious_ , you- you said I had to be there at eight, what changed?”

The Marshall’s twitching almost smile grows, for a brief second, before he rolls his shoulders in an easy shrug and crosses his arms over his chest. “I mean, if you don’t want the extra hour,” he starts, but Noctis all but shrieks, flailing his way off the counter until Prompto has to whirl around and catch him, staggering back a few steps with a snorting grunt.

“We want it, _we want it_ ,” Noctis breathes, clinging onto Prompto for a second before he detangles himself slowly. “I mean… if it’s not going to get you in trouble-“

“Kid,” the Marshall says, huffing out a quiet laugh that makes Prompto crane his neck to see his face, which is open and soft in literally the weirdest way possible. “This wouldn’t even scratch the surface of the trouble I’ve been in, trust me. Just go back to cuddling with your boyfriend and I’ll be back with some donuts or something in a while, okay?”

“Uh,” Noctis says and Prompto can sympathize only too well with the embarrassed squeak that word comes out as because his face is _burning_ at the reminder of how they’d been found. Cor only smirks before he raises a hand in a crooked lazy little salute, turning to leave them alone and locking the front door behind him.

“I need to find him, like, the best solstice present ever,” Noctis mutters and Prompto can’t help but laugh a little, leaning forward to tuck his face in the crook of Noctis’ neck. Noctis’ hands come up kind of absently to curl against his shoulder blades, thumb swiping little soothing circles against the fabric of his t-shirt.

“So,” Prompto says after a moment, turning his head so that his words can get further than Noctis’ collar. Noctis hums against him, thumb still moving slowly, comfortingly, and Prompto can’t help but lift his head just enough to kiss the corner of his mouth until Noctis’ lips curve in a smile.

“So,” Noctis murmurs back.

“What do you want to do with our allotted hour, babe?”

Noctis pulls back, just enough that Prompto can focus on his face again, eyelashes fluttering to leave butterfly kisses along the crest of his cheek. He’s gorgeous, Prompto thinks, and his chest aches in the best way possible.

“This,” Noctis answers quietly and then leans in to kiss him, hands sliding up his back to card into his hair and Prompto melts into him with a happy, contented sigh.

**Author's Note:**

> have a holiday fic where insomnia/eos has a vauge unspecified version of wintertime holidays (since they don't have, uh, a christ and therefore no christmas?) with a bittersweet prom and noct. I haven't had as much writing time as I'd like, otherwise I probably would've done this before christmas, but I managed before new years' at least. 
> 
> anyway I hope you enjoyed and I hope everyone reading this has a great unspecified wintertime holiday season!!!!


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